


Scars of Beauty

by literaryoblivion



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-12 15:32:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/813155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/pseuds/literaryoblivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Go on. Say it,” Remus goads, as if he wants Sirius to agree with him, tell him that his thoughts and fears were right and he was smart to stay hidden beneath his covers because he is pretty hideous. Maybe, if he had said it to Sirius when they were younger, when they were still getting to know each other, before they’d reached even the early stages of realizing they might like each other as something more than friends, Sirius might have made a joke out of it. Told him, “Yeah, Moony, you look worse than a blast-ended skrewt.” But now? Now that they are in their last year at Hogwarts and have become practically inseparable, and on outward appearances the best of friends, but in private, they’ve shared more than whispered secrets and tentative caresses, Sirius is almost angry with himself that he would have ever said something like that to Moony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars of Beauty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lemonsorbae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsorbae/gifts).



“Remus!” Sirius shouts as he bursts into their shared dormitory. There is no response. “Remus?” he asks again as he walks over to Remus’s bed, whose curtains are pulled all around it. Slowly, Sirius pulls back the curtain and pokes his head in to find a Remus-shaped lump beneath the sheets. “Moony, you’re not sick are you?”

“No. Just go away, Sirius,” comes a muffled reply.

“What’s wrong?” Sirius asks, ignoring his friend’s dismissal and placing a hand on what he thinks is a shoulder. The body beneath shakes off his hand. “Remus, it’s been a week; you’re usually okay by now. Did something happen? Should I get Madam Pomfrey?”

“No. I’m not ill. There’s nothing wrong. I just…”

“Just what?” asks Sirius as he leans in closer, one knee on the bed as he hovers over Remus’s blanketed form. There’s a small silence, and Sirius thinks he almost hears a soft sob or a sniff. It’s hard to tell though because Remus is still hiding beneath the blankets and has yet to emerge.

“The scratches are really bad this time, and they’re too hard to hide, and I don’t want anyone to see because I look horrible,” Remus says in a rush, his words running together like he hates having to say it out loud, admit to Sirius how much he hates this about himself, how he wishes he was normal and not a monster.

“Remus, let me see. I’m sure it’s not that bad.” Sirius shakes him. “Come on, let me look.” Nothing. “Moony… please?” he says in a soft, pleading voice. Sirius leans back a bit as Remus gently lowers the covers to reveal himself.

“It’s bad, I know. I’m ugly. It’s why I’ve stayed up here,” he says, refusing to look at Sirius when he says it because he’s ashamed of himself and afraid of the look he’ll find on his best friend’s face. Pity? Agreement? Indifference? He doesn’t want to know. His eyes are red and puffy because he had been crying, which just adds to his embarrassment.

Sirius shakes his head and climbs up fully onto the bed, shutting the curtain behind him. He pulls his wand from his back pocket and mutters a silencing and locking charm with a flick and puts it back in his pocket, so no one can hear them or interrupt. He is hovering on all fours above Remus, who has still refused to look at him.

Sirius pulls the covers down a little lower because Remus has only lowered them to his chin. He’s not wearing a shirt, most likely because many of the scratches are still fresh, red and painful looking on his chest. They are healing, Sirius can tell, but it doesn’t stop him from frowning in worry and sympathy. Some of the scratches are on top of old scars, and some are on previously unmarred flesh. There is a long gash across Remus’s cheek, which Sirius realizes must be the reason Remus has been in hiding. It’s been patched up as best as Madam Pomfrey can do, but it must have been too deep for her to fix quickly. There’s even a slight purpling bruise around it too, and Sirius almost wants to touch it as a sign of comfort but thankfully realizes that would be stupid, so he stares at it instead.

“Go on. Say it,” Remus goads, as if he wants Sirius to agree with him, tell him that his thoughts and fears were right and he was smart to stay hidden beneath his covers because he  _is_  pretty hideous. Maybe, if he had said it to Sirius when they were younger, when they were still getting to know each other, before they’d reached even the early stages of realizing they might like each other as something more than friends, Sirius might have made a joke out of it. Told him, “Yeah, Moony, you look worse than a blast-ended skrewt.” But now? Now that they are in their last year at Hogwarts and have become practically inseparable, and on outward appearances the best of friends, but in private, they’ve shared more than whispered secrets and tentative caresses, Sirius is almost angry with himself that he would have ever said something like that to Moony.

“Remus, you’re beautiful.” At that, Remus’s eyes flick up to meet Sirius’s, in surprise and possibly unbelief. But just as quickly, he rolls his eyes and pushes at Sirius’s chest in an attempt to move him away. He resists.

“Oh shove it. Go away. You’re only saying that to embarrass me further; it’s not going to make me feel better.”

“Remus, no I’m not. I’m not just saying that,” he says, his hand coming up to rest along Remus’s jaw, forcing him to look up at him. “I mean it, Moony.” He wipes away the tear that’s still at the corner of Remus’s eye with his thumb. Remus closes his eyes at the gesture, opening them again slowly to stare up at Sirius’s grey eyes. “Truly. You are.” Remus stares, searching for any sign of a lie, and Sirius only looks harder, to prove that he believes every word he just said because it’s true. Remus is one of the most beautiful creatures he’s ever seen, and he only wishes there was some way for Remus to see himself the way Sirius sees him: as someone truly remarkable.

He lowers himself, his lips just barely above Remus’s, and he whispers against his lips, “You are exquisite.” His eyes glance up to take in Remus’s reaction, his eyes crinkling slightly in the corners, and he can feel Remus’s lips curl up in a small smile.

“Really?” Remus says on a sigh, his voice barely audible, his breath ghosting over Sirius’s.

Sirius nods, his nose brushing against Remus’s, a gesture very similar to one he’s done before when they haven’t had words but nuzzles and are covered in fur that reflects the pale moonlight above them. “Yes, really,” he says just before he presses his lips to Remus’s and seals their mouths together. He is slow and gentle, his tongue licking over Remus’s slightly chapped lips, which open just enough for him to slide his tongue a little deeper into his mouth.

As he kisses, Sirius pushes the blankets further down, Remus too distracted to hold on to them any longer. When the blankets are no longer in the way, pushed down to the end of the bed, Sirius breaks the kiss only to move his mouth just to the edge of the bruise on Remus’s face, slightly pressing his lips there. Remus flinches a little in pain, but Sirius’s mouth is back over his in apology. Remus tucks a stray hair behind Sirius’s ear as he continues kissing him, Sirius sucking on his bottom lip and tongue.

Once Sirius seems satisfied with making Remus’s lips red and swollen, he goes back to the gash on his cheek, making sure to kiss around the blue and purplish coloring. Remus doesn’t flinch this time but relaxes, letting Sirius ghost over his scratches with his breath and lips, showing how much he cares for him, proving to him how beautiful he is. Sirius makes his way down his neck, gently licking over old faded scars along his jaw and neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the slightly raised newer ones that haven’t quite gone away yet.

Remus’s heart almost stops the further Sirius goes down because he’s never done this before. They’ve kissed and touched plenty of times, but he feels unworthy of all of this attention. Like Padfoot really does think he is a work of art, something to be worshipped and valued and cherished. And Sirius hasn’t said anything, but Remus can feel it, can feel the love with every caress of Sirius’s fingers along his ribs, the touch of his lips to every scar and scratch. The lower on his chest and stomach that Sirius kisses him, the more overwhelmed he feels, yes, but he’s getting more and more turned on. He can feel his pants growing tighter, and he’s embarrassed by it because how could his body be betraying him like this, turning this sweet and tender moment into something sexual?

He wants to tell Sirius to stop, that he understands, that he’ll stop hiding because he knows Sirius thinks he’s handsome despite the scars, but he can’t. He’s never felt so loved before, and he wants that feeling to go on forever. He doesn’t _want_  Sirius to stop because he feels good and wanted.

And as if he can hear his thoughts, Sirius answers, “It’s okay.” Then he moves himself lower, his hand unbuttoning Remus’s trousers. Remus’s hands fly to stop him, but Sirius catches them and kisses his palms before he places them back down to his sides and then goes back to opening Remus’s trousers, sucking on his hipbone as he does so.

Remus shakes his head because he can’t force any words out and because he doesn’t want Sirius to think that he has to do this. They’ve only ever rubbed up against each other or used their hands, and while he’s thought about what it would feel like to have Sirius’s warm mouth around him, he’s been too afraid to ask. He hasn’t wanted to make Sirius feel rushed or forced, and a part of him feels like that is exactly what he’s doing now. “No, you don’t have to. It’s fine…” he finally says before Sirius starts to push his trousers past his hips.

Sirius frowns a little. “But… I want to. Can I, please? Is it alright?”

And again, Remus is surprised and doesn’t quite believe Sirius, but Sirius’s eyes seem so earnest in his request. Who is he to deny him? Because he definitely doesn’t  _actually_  want to deny him. So Remus nods, “Yes. Okay.” To which Sirius grins, like he’s been giving the perfect gift on Christmas morning, and Remus bites his bottom lip, holding back a laugh at how happy Sirius is at the idea that Remus’s okay with him sucking him off.

Sirius’s happy grin quickly turns to one of desire once he gets both Remus’s trousers and pants pulled down far enough that his cock is exposed. He rubs his hand up and down the shaft, stroking it a few times, causing Remus to choke back a few moans at the touch and his eyelids flutter close. He looks down at Sirius between his legs, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with that image, so he closes his eyes and throws his hand over them, not trusting himself to last at all if he keeps looking. But Sirius hasn’t done anything more, just holding him firmly in his hand and that’s it.

“Moony?” Remus looks down again to find Sirius, a look of utter fondness on his face. “You really are magnificent, you know?  _All_  of you. You are sublime.” Remus looks down to the side, a blush falling on his already heated cheeks, because he doesn’t know what to say to that. Because he can tell that Sirius means every word, that every word is said with love, and he doesn’t think a thank you would be enough for such a high compliment.

But Sirius takes his blush as thanks enough and is glad that Remus doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need words because the way that Remus reacts to his touches, the sounds he makes once Sirius finally takes his cock into his mouth and sucks are all he needs to hear. He’s never been good with words himself, which is why he hopes that with every lick and suck, Remus knows how much he wants this, how much he’s  _wanted_  this, to do this for him. That he really does find Moony breathtaking in every form, with every scar. Because as much as he wishes that Moony didn’t have to suffer, that if he could he would take away the pain and aches that he has after he transforms back, he wouldn’t change a single part of him or want him any other way. That Sirius, as twisted as it might sound, loves his scars the best because they remind him of when they are Padfoot and Moony, chasing each other in the woods, howling and barking at other creatures, and being together and relying on each other.

When Remus starts bucking his hips up involuntarily, Sirius sucks harder, moving his hand up and down faster as he does. He loves that he can do this for him, that he can taste him and feel how good he is and how much he’s enjoying it. Sirius takes every shuttering breath and whimper as his reward, as his thanks, and he ignores Remus’s warning tugs that he is close because he doesn’t want to stop, doesn’t want to give up the taste and feel of Remus moving in and out of his mouth. He waits till the last possible second, when he can feel Remus tense beneath him, and pulls off with a pop just as Remus comes shouting out his name as he does.

He continues stroking Remus through his orgasm and moves up to catch his lips with his own, Remus wrapping his arms around him, squeezing him with his spasms in the after-shock of his climax. After it’s worn off, and he’s recovered, Remus tries to reach for Sirius’s trousers, but Sirius shakes his head and waves his hand away.

“Later,” he says as he takes off his own shirt to use to wipe up Remus’s stomach, being careful around the still healing scratches. He tosses it to the floor and helps Remus get his pants and trousers back on, and then reaches for the discarded blanket and sheets at the foot of the bed to pull up and over them. He squeezes in next to Remus’s side and lays his head down next to Remus’s on the pillow.

“Don’t you have Transfiguration?” Remus asks, not because he doesn’t want Sirius there he knows but because he’s always worried about class and grades and Sirius in relation to them.

Sirius shrugs. “I’ll get the notes from James. I’d rather be here with you.” And Remus can’t help the warm feeling he gets in his heart when he says it.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Remus says. He wants to tell Sirius that he thinks he’s in love with him, but they’re still so young, and although he thinks Sirius feels the same about him, he doesn’t think either of them have the courage to say those words out loud to each other. So instead he nestles in closer, wrapping his arms tighter around Sirius, who mirrors the action and then places a tender kiss on his forehead.

“Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Cause I'm just now hopping on the Wolfstar ship and realizing that I am a HUGE fan. If only I had discovered this sooner. This is my first Remus/Sirius fic (and I'm not sure how often I'll actually write them), so I hope it's okay. I wrote it for [Feathers](http://castielsangelpeen.tumblr.com) because she's awesome and currently on vacay, so I'm missing her.
> 
> Feel free to say hello and come visit me at [my tumblr](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com).


End file.
